She nodded her head quickly and turned back to the water. She lifted, curled, and pushed faster this time. She pulled up, and hit a spot right next to that, increasing her speed and force slightly. She repeated the process, increasing her speed and force until her foreleg became a blur with each hit. As she went the dents got deeper and deeper, until she was having to tug her claw free. She continued her assault on the mud, waiting only for Caustic to say 'Enough'.

He watched silently, almost passively, waiting for the moment it shifted from a push to a strike that could break resistance. He saw her reach the point of the shift, saw her hover at that point for a few blows; and then he saw her lean forward just a bit, to make her strike and will it to simply keep going as she pushed her weight into it.

Hold, he commanded, and stood - he'd lain down to rest - to better inspect her work. Stretching his neck let him see past her into the water that was slowly settling back into its customary clearness as dirt and debris swirled and settled once more along the bottom.

The prints she'd left in the mud grew in clarity as she'd stopped thinking; he'd seen that, watched her face shift into a hard, expressionless mask as she let her entire world shrink to nothing more than parting the water to strike her target. He wondered, vaguely, what the experience had done for her; mostly, he took note of her achievements.

Success, he said simply, and stood up straight once again - the last had been a perfect imprint with little else besides the strength of her limb to support the force. Now do it straight, without a build up.

He didn't expect her to be able to, but he had to see. If she could connect into that same state and achieve the same results, even with a moment of meditation first, then it stuck - she noticed the change. If not, they would simply have to repeat the process.

She froze, foreleg in the air and sides heaving. She looked down into the water, seeing the prints she left. There was a major difference between the first and last ones, and she couldn't help but smile at her progress. Her smile widened at his praise- only to turn into a worried frown at his instruction. Could she do it again? She wasn't sure how she did it the first time. But she thought to when she was having to wrench her claw free from the mud. She experimentally hit the ground with her claw and watched it bounce back up. Hmmm. She pulled up her claw, curled it, and slammed it toward the water, continuing to push after hitting the muddy bottom. She pushed until she could go no further and yanked her claw free, looking to caustic for approval or correction. Whichever she had just earned.

He eyed her as she looked at him, considering her, deciding what she may - or may not - be ready for. It lasted for several seconds, a weighing of what she had presented; and then, quite suddenly, he seemed to come to a conclusion.

He turned away and walked a few paces, his stride sure and long; he was a sight and a half, once he was decisive.

He stopped at a stone and turned to face her; he had no expression, and his voice had no warmth. When he spoke, it was as a command; which was as much a test as had been the water strike. Either she could take his direction, or she couldn't.

Break the stone.

If she hit it - rather than striking through it - it would prove futile. Either she'd understood the lesson, or she hadn't. This was the test.

And the second test would be how she handled failure, if it came.

This teaching thing, it could prove interesting; he was certainly getting a power trip out of it. And, hopefully, she was getting what she needed out of it as well.

She crept toward the stone fearfully, eyes never leaving Caustic. She turned to the stone and lifted her shaking claw, jerking her claw towards it before snapping it back. She stared at the stone in disbelief while her jaw hugged her chest. All this work, all this effort, for that? Her eyes narrowed in determination as a low growl rumbled in her throat. She lifted her claw, turned it on its side, and slammed it toward the rock. She repeated this, watching as the rock cracked until she broke through and reached grass. She glared at it while she panted, then turned her-significantly softer-gaze to Caustic, awaiting instruction.

He shook his head, torn between amusement and bewilderment. She was an odd creature, for certain.

You copied a technique you saw elsewhere? he asked, although it sounded fairly rhetorical. Not the best idea. Come.

Turning, he strode to another boulder and lifted his head, mentally preparing himself for this need to talk. And, most importantly, to do so in a way that wouldn't tear someone apart.

Nurturing was hard.

Parting the air with the side of your claw steals strength. Your leg is not meant to turn in such a manner, and the palm upon which you step has the greatest impact.

Nodding towards the stone, he gave her a meaningful look - just short of meeting her gaze - and said Split the stone. Set your mind. The stone is water.

It was the closest he could come to spelling it out for her; if he simply handed her too much of what she needed to discover within herself, it would be robbed of meaning.

Caustic was looking forward to the moment she found her comprehension.

He was also impressed with how she had handled herself when the first stone had resisted. Determination, rather than hysterical tears, had come to the forefront - some of that was reflected in a change in his demeanor. She had, for a bare instant, found her inner warrior; and so, for the moment, he looked at her as such.